


Ghosting

by VeteranKlaus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Basically Ben and Klaus' s2 relationship from Ben's point of view, Character Death, Gen, Non-Consensual Possession, Permanent Character Death, Possession, Season 2, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, either way. you know what happens to Ben., is it character death is the character is already dead?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Ghosts are horrible things, and Ben never wants to end up like the rest of them. He can't do that to Klaus. He can't end up like that.As he possesses Vanya, however, he realises that he might have become just that in the end.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 19
Kudos: 138





	Ghosting

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Briony for the prompt!!
> 
> Anyway, this ended up kinda analysing Ben and Klaus' relationship in s2 from Ben's perspective, since he did some Quite Dickish things, so head's up for Ben having some bad thought processes.

Ghosts are horrible things, really. 

Ben learns this rather quickly, when Klaus’ supply of drugs begins to dry up and the walls they put up between him and the ghosts begin to crumble, and suddenly Ben can actually see the other ghosts.

Rather quickly, Ben learns just why Klaus was always so afraid of them; why he strived desperately to pump himself full of drugs to keep them far away from him. Or, at least he learns partly why he is; can imagine that it got worse after years of constant torment from them, and the mausoleum - of which Ben only learns about nearly a year after his death. 

Ghosts are, way more often than not, horrible things. Hardly coherent, angry, violent things, only growing more and more spiteful and bitter in death, and the only person they can direct such hate towards, since they don’t seem to take any notice of other ghosts, is Klaus. They flock to him as if they can sense his powers - which, now as a ghost himself, Ben can confirm that they do, if at least a little bit - and they act as if Klaus was the reason for their deaths, constantly hounding him, threatening him, screaming at him. 

In his time being dead, Ben had never encountered another ghost like himself; one that seemed aware of other ghosts, aware of themselves; one that wasn’t angry, obsessing over either their death or over Klaus; another ghost that still seemed a little human. 

And that - sometimes that scares him more than he would like to admit. To see these ghosts around him deprived of all their humanity, melted down to nothing but bitterness and hatred for no other discernible reason than: they are simply a ghost. And if that’s the case, then shouldn’t Ben be like that, too?

It’s a thought that plagues him for years, something that rears its ugly head whenever the other ghosts push through Klaus’ defence of drugs and torment his brother again. He sees himself in them, imagines himself deteriorating down to their level and joining the crowd that haunts his brother, and it terrifies him. With each passing day, week, month, _year,_ Ben fears that his time is running out. That one day, he’ll start feeling this anger, this resentment, grow inside him; will find himself directing it unfairly at his brother, until it snowballs out of his control and he’s just one of the many undead furious with the living, and he won’t even be aware of it until it’s all too late.

And sometimes, he almost understands it - at least a little bit - which only goes to scare him even more, but he can. Being completely invisible to the entire world? For _years?_ It’s terrible. Dying and suddenly finding oneself still sentient, but completely cut off from the entirely world - it’s a traumatic, horrible thing, and Ben thinks that one reason why he isn’t as terrible as the other ghosts, is because he was already familiar with things that should seem impossible. He was aware of superpowers, aware of monsters, aware of ghosts; so it wasn’t so mind-breaking to try to wrap his head around being a ghost.

But for other, ordinary people? He could understand that maybe that might tip someone over the edge. The years of complete and utter isolation following one’s death certainly would do nothing to help, either. 

And then, of course, there is Klaus.

It’s… hard to describe, but Klaus is just - different, from everyone else. Being dead, the world is a cold, dark, bleak place. Everything is dull and muted, and then-

Then there’s Klaus. He stands out _so much_ compared to the rest of the world, and there’s always this feeling in his gut that seems to draw him towards Klaus, getting heavier and more intense the further he strays from his brother’s side, as if demanding he stay nearby. When he doesn’t - he’s tried, before, to test the limits of his new reality, which includes the ability to phase through objects at will - and he goes even further, then he begins to get disoriented, a little. He feels more disconnected, more lost. He drifts, not entirely dissimilar to sleeping, and he comes back to himself sometime later when he’s closer to Klaus again. It’s hard to stay away from Klaus. 

So, if Ben were to start acting like the other ghosts, he’s sure he would also be drawn to Klaus’ side, also be one of the ghosts to torment his brother, and he - 

He can’t do that. He can’t do that to his brother, and the idea of becoming something so - so hateful, so inhuman, terrifies him.

He never tells Klaus. He knows it would utterly terrify his brother if he even hinted at such a thing being a possibility, if he planted that seed of doubt in his brother’s mind, so he keeps these thoughts to himself. If he finds himself angry with Klaus, even if for completely justified reasons - his brother is an asshole, after all - then he’s quick to put some distance between, just on the off chance this anger ignites something dark in Ben. 

He’s afraid to leave his brother’s side, terrified, really, to move on to what one might expect actual death to be like, with no sentience or consciousness, but he vows not to be by his brother if he ends up like all the others. Over the years, though, he begins to hope that this won’t happen. When they’re twenty-nine and their father dies and Ben finds himself able to touch things once Klaus gets sober, when Klaus manifests him in the Icarus Theatre and his siblings can finally _see him,_ Ben begins to think that maybe, just maybe, he could have something good. Something other than this horribly lonely death, seen only by Klaus for the foreseeable future. 

Then the sixties happen.

At first, it had been - okay. Klaus stayed sober, and suddenly Ben could interact with things by himself, could dip his toe into the land of the living, and he only needed Klaus to make him corporeal; but still, this new ability to be able to interact with objects was more than he’d had in years, and it was incredible. He had hoped that perhaps Klaus would make him corporeal more often too, and though he knew he would never be alive again, never interact with the world like a normal person again, maybe he’d just - be able to be himself, again. Have freedom and independence, not rely on Klaus for everything, and to be able to talk to their siblings himself again, after so long. 

And then Klaus starts using him to scam people. And look - he understands it, sort of. Klaus needs money, Klaus needs to eat, and he needs a place to stay, and it’s hard to get a real job when he has no proof in this time period that he even exists, so he’d be happy to help if Klaus had just sat down and spoken to him about different options; if they could come to an agreement. If Klaus didn’t use Ben’s ability to interact, unseen, with the world, something that was incredible and significant and precious to Ben, for himself. He had expected Ben to just go with it, hadn’t understood Ben’s point of view of their situation. Yes, it might be Klaus’ power allowing him to interact with the world, but it was Ben’s autonomy; and after years of being able to do absolutely nothing, it hurt him to see Klaus so dismissive of this. 

Then the scam snowballs and Klaus doesn't listen to Ben when he tells him they need to think about things; that things are getting odd; that people aren't looking at Klaus as some free-travelling, spiritual hippie, but regarding him as a leader; and it gets worse and worse until it is out of control and Klaus won't accept responsibility for his cult and the people whose lives he has disrupted. 

It was frustrating. Klaus ignored his advice, and didn’t compromise with him, and took control of his autonomy to use for his own benefit and got offended when Ben was upset; when Ben asked for more, to have his own independence back, and all of a sudden it was - so much easier, to get angry with Klaus. It was so much easier to be bitter. To hold grudges. To be spiteful. 

He trips Klaus up when he can, more often than usual, and he doesn't feel bad about it. He doesn't regret it. When he learns that he can deny Klaus’ ability to make him corporeal, he adamantly puts a stop to Klaus using him as his little bodyguard unless he fears that his brother is in any _real_ danger. If Klaus isn't willing to work with him, then he isn't willing to work with Klaus. 

It was three years of them pushing and shoving at one another, bickering and arguing, lashing out, and by the time they actually found the rest of their siblings, their relationship was poor. Ben was angry. And it all spilled over when his brother denied him the chance to talk to their siblings, after sixteen years-

Ben was mad. He was angry, and he was hurt, and he just wished his brother could understand what it was like to be so completely powerless, and invisible, for so long; to have words put in his mouth constantly, to be denied the ability to speak to his own family; and then to have some form of independence, only for it to be abused, and exploited. He wanted Klaus to hurt like he had hurt, so that he could understand what it was like, what these past three years had been like for Ben.

And he got it.

In the moment, Ben could honestly say that he did not regret possessing Klaus. He didn’t regret possessing him any time he had, and he would have done it again. When he did it, the world burst into colour. Everything became so much more vibrant, became alive, and it was beautiful. He could breathe; he could taste, and smell, and feel, all on a level that he had forgotten had even been possible. And people had seen him, and spoken to him, and touched him, and it had been everything Ben had wanted for so long-

And then Diego found him. Diego found him, and spoke to him, and hugged him-

Ben didn’t regret it. He wished he had been able to do it in front of the rest of their siblings, so he could have hugged them, too. 

Any possession afterwards, however, would have likely been out of spite. He knew Klaus didn’t like it, and he thought that was ironic. He didn’t like someone else exploiting him? His autonomy? Like he had done to Ben for the past three years? He didn’t like Ben talking to their family through him? Good. That was what Ben had gone through for years. He wanted Klaus to experience what he had, and that was as close as he could get. 

He didn’t have an ounce of regret for it, right up until they were racing to save Vanya again. When Diego and Allison failed to get to her, and it was all up to him and Klaus. 

Perhaps he had sensed it, somehow. That this would be the end for him; and a real end, too. He’d find that eternal peace, he’d move into the light, no longer a ghost stuck to the world, stuck to his brother. He knew that whatever happened in that building, he was not going to walk back out again.

And it soothed something inside of him.

All the anger and the frustration he’d felt for - years, really, had dulled and melted away. The grudges he had disappeared, became small and stupid and insignificant, and he could see things with a clearer conscience; one he only realised in that moment that he hadn’t had for perhaps over two years, now.

He’d never get to say it, but he did, finally, regret possessing Klaus. At least in the way that it had happened. If Klaus had given him another opportunity, he would have been eager to sit down with his brother and talk it out, and to not stray from any boundaries he had set, so long as it gave him an opportunity to breathe again; an opportunity to hug the rest of his siblings. He would have been happy with that, and he regretted pushing like he had; regretted doing it when Klaus didn’t want to, when he didn’t expect it. He wished he could apologise for doing that, and for even being smug when Klaus hadn’t liked it. 

He had thought that perhaps he was different from other ghosts. Perhaps he would never grow bitter and spiteful like the rest of them. And maybe, if situations had been different, he wouldn’t have; or maybe it would have just taken him longer. Either way, Ben recognises that that was what had happened; had been happening for the past three years. He isn’t sure how much of that was the poor situation he and Klaus had found themselves in, and how much of it had to do with being dead. In the end, he supposes it didn’t really matter. Either way, it had happened, and he had become the thing he had been terrified of becoming, and he had said and done horrible things to his brother. 

Maybe they could heal from it. Maybe they could save Vanya and go back home and Ben could have the not-life that he wanted, where Klaus could make him corporeal and he could finally talk to his siblings and be part of the family, and maybe all that anger would melt away from him again.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe Klaus wouldn’t work with him still, maybe Ben would still be angry with him, still spiteful, and only get worse. It is hard to tell, and it’s a gamble Ben isn’t willing to risk. 

He wants to be part of his family again, but perhaps that chance has simply passed. He can’t bring himself to be mad at Klaus for that, not any longer. Perhaps the chance had never even been there. How could a ghost really fit in the land of the living, after all? Ben might have stayed sane for longer than any other ghost, but maybe it was always inevitable, and he doesn’t want his siblings’ memories of him to be something angry, and bitter, and resentful, and downright dangerous. 

It hurts, but he accepts this. He likes to imagine that he did do good by Klaus’ side for a while, and he thinks of the way it had felt for Diego to hug him and acknowledge him. He takes what he can get, and when he possesses Vanya, Ben knows that he won’t follow her back to the rest of their family.

Her power starts chipping away at him as soon as he slips into her consciousness. Slowly at first, but the closer Vanya gets to waking up, as more of her power becomes internalised, reeling it in from the rest of the world, it gets faster and faster, until he’s crumbling apart in his sister’s arms. 

Ben regrets a lot of things. He regrets not being there for Klaus more. He regrets saying things he did; things about him and Dave, who Klaus had poured his heart out to him about, had gotten sober for. He regrets possessing him, and possessing him again when he didn’t want it, and abusing that power. He regrets enjoying it. He regrets not hugging Diego for longer. He regrets not telling Klaus he was sorry, or that he loved him. He regrets not doing more; not doing less, but all he can do is hope that Klaus can forgive him, and maybe he’ll understand what happened and understand that it wasn’t entirely Ben. He can hope that Klaus won’t blame himself when Ben doesn’t return. 

But all he can do is hope, because Vanya’s arms disappear from him, and in the next second, he’s in a grey place with trees either side of him. He can feel the breeze in the air on his skin, in his hair. 

He’s on a road. Behind him, trees cut it all off. In front of him, it leads on, and on, and on, in a single straight line, into pure light. It’s not the same thing Ben saw the night he died, but it’s the light nonetheless.

Maybe he could fight it. Maybe, if he waited long enough, Klaus would conjure him again. Maybe, if he waited, he could go back home.

However, Ben doesn’t wait. 

He starts walking down that road, feeling more himself than he has in a long time. Each step closer melts tension from his shoulders, melts away his worries, his doubts, his regrets. 

He won’t be able to say a goodbye or a sorry to his brother, or to any of his siblings, but it’s simply how it has to be. 

Exhaling, more composed and more calm than he thinks he’s ever been, Ben walks into the light, and it’s one of the things he doesn’t regret doing.

**Author's Note:**

> This was interesting to write, so if feel free to leave your own thoughts in the comments!


End file.
